A Cure Called Espionage
by the bauble
Summary: Gwen wouldn't be surprised if she was pulled behind a beverage machine and sent into a chute that led God-knows-where. She'd heard the stories. // A secret agent!AU of "The Poisoned Chalice" where Gwen must use deception and trickery to retrieve a cure.


**Warnings: **Some swearing, crack, Gwen in heels.

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A Cure Called Espionage

(Or, "What Would Have Happened in 'The Poisoned Chalice' had Camelot been a Secret Agency")

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"Oh effing hell!" cried Gwen, glancing at the elevator level listing. Though she was not normally one for swear words, she figured she could be excused this once, considering her level of worry. Oh yes, she was worried. And on a deeper - and more prominent level - irritated.

Gwen was fairly irritated. More than fairly, in fact, and irritated was hardly the appropriate word. If she had time to think on it- which she didn't, of course -Gwen would have noted that there was not one specific word that could possibly summarize how she felt in this moment, which was similar to how she had been feeling for several past moments- minutes, hours, etcetera. But, really, she did not have any such time, not when she had to be saving the life of her fri... no, her... her, ah, her _Merlin. _

Him. Idiot had himself holed up in the infirmary, and how the head's son's PA had gotten himself poisoned would seem a mystery to anyone who did not know the person in question. But since it was Merlin, it was only natural that he be in the worst 'worst case scenario' imaginable. Because why not? And worst case scenarios were taught to be one thing that any employee should watch for (and report), regardless if the employee was the coffee-retrieving variety, or the deadly-martial-arts-variety.

And Gwen, over the past few months of her acquaintance with Merlin, had realized that the guy was a walking, talking 'worst case scenario.'

_Ding. _

The elevator door opened, and Gwen darted from the small space and down the hall with an incredible speed walk; she grimaced at the difficulty of hurrying in heels (why had she let Morgana talk her into letting these sort of shoes invade her closet?) and making sure the tray in her grasp did not bounce. This was her way in. This was how she was going to save _his _life.

When she got to the door, she stopped for just a second, to steel her nerves before she made her way to break every law of the agency. _Be brave, _she thought to herself, _you know you can. _Gwen knew she could.

She had to be.

Then, she pushed her finger to the button against the door, and spoke into the receiver- "My apologies for lateness; I'm here to provide Mr. Pendragon with his meal."

For a moment there was nothing but silence, visual and auditory, and Gwen thought she might faint from her worry and God, what if they didn't let her in, what if they didn't believe-

The door slid open; Gwen let out her breath.

Arthur Pendragon stood there, back pressed against the corner of the interrogation room, the plain white chair pushed out from the plain white table, long-discarded in favor of his current position. In mind of the security cameras (she'd cleaned them, before, during graveyard shift), Gwen only took a few steps in, reached the table, and placed the tray upon the white object before nodding her head to Arthur.

"Your dinner, Mr. Pendragon." She watched him slowly approach it, and only when he reached the other side of the table and touch the tray did she turn her back.

Two steps, with one more to the door, and there was a groan.

"This is God-awful! I've been out in Eastern European terrain for ages with no good food, and this is the best you can give me?! Bring me something else."

He was so convincing (at least Gwen hoped he was having to try, because if not...) that she allowed herself a slight sneer before whirling, snatching the object of which they spoke, and bit out "I'll see what I can do," then promptly exiting the room and rushing down the hall again. At least this time there was reason for her speed, for whoever was watching from the security office. Not someone very intelligent, she hoped. A big, brawny, not-so-brainy type.

If not... well, Gwen wouldn't be surprised if she was pulled behind a beverage machine and sent into a chute that led God-knows-where. She'd heard the stories.

Heaven help her if she _became_ one.

When she got to the elevator it was opening, and out stepped a girl holding a tray. A tray just like the one Gwen was holding. Pursing her lips, she reached inside and pushed the button for the floor five levels higher than the one she needed to get to before retracting her arm.

Gwen opted for the stairs instead.

After two flights Gwen felt her ankles start to ache. But there were only two more, and she willed herself to keep going, Merlin's pale face haunting her, the smell of disinfectant giving each pound of her heel an edge. There was hope mixed with equal parts of fear in her mind, caused by the image of his eyes burnt into her retinas, wide and unseeing. A shiver made its way down her spine.

There was a great deal of care put into opening the door to the fifth floor. If she slammed it- and she nearly did so in her haste- she could be heard by the security agents that were more than likely waiting by the elevator, tipped off by the other girl taking Mr. Pendragon his _real _meal. No, she had to be quite cautious, despite the nervous clenching in her stomach and the sweat she could feel beading on her brow.

The blaring white of the hall blurred her vision as she sped to the infirmary, trying to keep the clicking of her shoes to a minimum but finding it impossible. Gaius had said he hadn't much time, and she was wasting it.. But she needed stealth, too. Everything had to be perfect and right and early, because goodness if she wasn't bloody early enough...

"Gaius!" Gwen breathed as she pushed through the double doors of the hospital. "I...I have it. I think." Gwen realized rather belatedly that she hadn't even glanced at the tray yet. What had she been thinking?! Her eyes fell to the plastic in her hands, searching for that ridiculous, horrendous yellow flower. For a moment, her heart nearly stopped. But then-

_Oh thank God. _

"Yes, here." She strode over to Merlin's bedside, passing over the small bloom to Gaius, who lifted it and examined the specimen with a critical eye.

"Indeed. Thank you, Gwen." Her head nodded of its own accord, like her frequent babble, but Gwen was focused on something else entirely. Gwen's gaze had strayed to Merlin's sickly face, to his slight form beneath the hospital bed's sheets. She couldn't pull her eyes away, though she herself wanted to be sick at the sight, or cry for it, or both.

When Gwen looked up again, Gaius was gone. She frowned, before seeing smoke emitting from the open doorway that led to Gaius' medical lab. _Right. _He was probably fixing up Merlin's cure. Not sure what to do with herself while she waited, while Merlin teetered on the edge of the cliff of life that looked over... ah, well, she decided she would wait in the chair next to him. Gwen hesitantly lowered herself into the seat, pausing only for a moment before reaching over and taking Merlin's clammy hand.

It was with great care that she lifted it to her cheek, leaning her face against the back of his hand and closing her eyes for a moment. There was a dull thudding that coursed through her body; it took Gwen a moment to realize that it was the beat of her heart.

"Gwen?"

At Gaius' voice Gwen dropped Merlin's hand onto the bed and felt her face burn.

"Is his cure ready to be administered?" She asked breathlessly. The awkward feeling that settled over the room caused her to tug uncomfortably on her black blazer.

"Yes, yes. Tip his head back, will you? And make sure to hold his nose." Her hands trembled slightly as she did Gaius' bidding, and watched with apprehensive eyes as he poured some of the concoction from the beaker into Merlin's mouth.

After a moment of nervous silence, she braved asking "Did it go down his throat?" Gaius nodded, not daring to allow a word.

Many moments passed in silence, as they waited for a sign of improvement in Merlin's labored breathing.

Then, it stopped.

Gwen's heart caught in her throat, and for a few seconds, as she leant over and placed her ear against his chest, she couldn't believe it. _No. Nonononno..._

"Oh, _Gaius_." Gwen stood and wrapped her arms around the elderly man, burying her face in his lab coat as she felt the tears that had lay waiting finally break through.

"There there, my dear..." She heard him swallow thickly, and cough.

"It's all my fault; I should have ran the whole way, regardless of being caught!"

Gaius shushed her. "No, Gwen. I should have tried harder, despite the consequences. It is I who must take the blame." Gwen didn't have the capability of contradicting him, not when her voice kept getting swallowed by her tears.

They stood there for a time that was undeterminable; sorrow plaguing them equally, the both of them mourning Merlin. However different their individuual relationships with him had been, he had meant something important to the both of them, and sat heavy on their hearts.

Eventually Gaius murmured something about getting a bag, and her covering him with a sheet while he went to the storage room. Gwen nodded as he looked at her with concern, and she pushed back some of the hair in her eyes as he exited the infirmary, insisting with her head motion that she would do as he requested.

But as she turned around to look at Merlin, she couldn't bear to hide his face with a blank, white sheet. Considering Merlin's colorful personality it hardly seemed fitting, and she was loathe to insult his memory. Instead, she sat on the side of his bed, next to his hip, and merely gazed at him, crying quietly.

"Why, Merlin?" She asked of his corpse, of herself, as she rubbed at the skin beneath her eyes. "Why would you drink that damn poison? It wasn't worth it. Arthur Pendragon's a Goddamned idiot... well, less of one now, that he at least tried to save you, but it didn't even do any good! And trying matters, but it doesn't.. well, it doesn't matter as much because you're dead, Merlin, and it's not fair!" She shuddered from her cry, and turned away from Merlin's face. God, it hurt, and she didn't save him, she wasn't fast enough, wasn't-

"Gwen?"

She froze, a sob catching in her throat.

"And now I'm hallucinating your voice, and it's not even been ten minutes!" Gwen threw her hands into the air at the sheer insanity, insanity that she was likely to obtain now herself, if the one reckless voice in her life was gone.

There was a touch on her elbow, and Gwen screamed, whirling around.

"What the he- Oh!" Her protest died in her throat, for there was Merlin, eyes blinking in a manner that was surprisingly quick for someone who was, apparently, just barely alive. "You're not dead? You're not dead! We'd thought you'd died, Merlin." She felt her eyes water again, and she brushed away the wetness.

"Evidently."

"Unless you're just a ghost?" Oh no, she couldn't allow herself to hope, she realized, because what if grief _was _causing her to imagine things?

The form-that-was-possibly-Merlin laughed. "I'm hardly some spirit, Gwen." And that just sounded so much like Merlin that Gwen disposed of her previous thoughts and leaned over, pressing every piece of her that she could to every bit of him that she could reach. Her legs tangled with his, the slick black fabric of her slacks getting stuck between his thighs, and her fringe fell from its place plastered to her face to a position where it just brushed Merlin's forehead.

"Oh, thank God." And she kissed him. She wasn't sure why she did it, except for there was some part of her mind, in the way back, that reasoned there was no way she would have been so worried for Merlin if she hadn't felt equally strong emotions of a more amorous variety whenever he was around, and if she had cared to think deeply about it, she would have noticed that yeah, that pretty much was the case.

Except she was too busy pressing her lips to his to think that hard.

Apparently Merlin was a little out of it, because a small bit of her mind realized that he wasn't reciprocating as much as she had thought he would (which was not saying she had ever thought about snogging Merlin, of course not. Such an idea was preposterous).

She pulled back, and gave him a curious look. "Is something the matter, because I.. I can stop, it's just I'm happy you're alive. We'd thought you were dead, Gaius and I... and I, well. We thought you had died."

Merlin cracked a small smile. "You mentioned that once or twice." Then, a strange look came over his face. "No! Oh, no, nothing's wrong! I was just... surprised. And doesn't my breath smell?"

Gwen blinked in astonishment. She supposed it did, since he had been in a sweaty state of near-death for the past few days, and had no time to brush his teeth. But really, the thought had escaped her entirely.

She said as much.

There was an awkward silence as she looked to the side, and Merlin coughed.

"Well," Merlin began after a few moments. "If it's not a problem..."

Gwen turned her head and gave him a wry smile, then, before laughing a bit hysterically. "If it's not a problem...?" There was another laugh.

Throwing caution- or whatever it was that had stalled her acting upon what it was she felt for Merlin during the past months - to the wind (not to mention feeling slightly encouraged by the notion that the storage room that held Gaius' attention was three floors down, and that there were probably some very perplexed security guards questioning him), She bent over Merlin once again, more than happy to oblige him.

It's safe to say that this time, he responded eagerly.

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_Note: I wrote this on New Year's actually, and have edited it a few times. That said, it is un-betaed, and if you've noticed any mistakes please let me know. I'm kind of tempted to write a sequal that is not related to an episode, just so I can write secret agent!Morgana. It is my greatest displeasure that I could not do so this time. _

_Concrit is appreciated and comments are loved. And is it strange that I write more Merlin and Gwen than I do Merlin and Morgana (my OTP)?_


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